


A Bounty on Angels

by RieltheWolf



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dubious Consent, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Smut, Gen, Hunters Still Hunt the Supernatural but take Bounties on people as well, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kidnapping, Kinda, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Supernatural Creatures Still Exist But They're Not The Main Focus, Unethical Experimentation, Violence, as soon as I get good at tagging
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-05 03:23:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13379085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RieltheWolf/pseuds/RieltheWolf
Summary: Zachariah, owner of Fortune 500 Company, gains an extreme problem on his hands when two of his "personal service workers", Angels he likes to call them, Gabriel and Castiel Novak escape from his facilities and hide out in the busy city of New York as police search for them. In desperation, Zachariah hires two Hunters and gives them the task of finding the two for a large sum of cash. However, the plan gets thrown out the window, Dean and Sam get more involved than they intended and are now on the run with the two former Angels with  Zachariah's forces hot in their trail. The further they go on this journey the more Sam and Dean learn about these two escapees and why Zachariah wants them back so bad. Bonds are formed, dangers grow in numbers, and hidden secrets come to light.





	1. Problems Posed, Solutions Presented

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first chapter. More chapters to come (hopefully soon)

Zachariah inhaled sharply through his nose, fist clenched tightly on his glass table, the urge to throw something expensive across the room quickly taking over. The distant sound of alarms blared outside his door, but inside the room it was silent despite the twenty four other people that stood in the room as well. The people that made up a small portion of his privately funded security task force all stood silently near the door, all of them avoided eye contact with their boss, fingers twitching nervously on the assault rifles they clutched in their hands. Two of his "personal service workers", Angels he liked to call them, stood quietly against the eastern most wall, both dressed in fitted white pants with gold stitching, white sleeveless turtle necks with small wings stitched neatly with gold on the back, and a white collar with a gold plate in the center, the words "Property of Z" engraved in small, readable letters.

The room remained silent for a few moments before Zachariah exhaled loudly, startling everyone in the room.

"How...the fuck...did this happen?" Zachariah said through clenched teeth, icy blue raising agonizingly slow to glare at his security team.

No one spoke, twenty-two pairs of eyes trained anywhere but on their boss's eyes.

Zachariah slammed a fist down on the glass table in front of him, a large crack shooting its way up through the center. Everyone in the room jumped in alarm, skittish gazes eyeing Zachariah warily.

"Well don't everyone speak at fucking once!" He snarled angrily. "How the fuck did this happen! Where the fuck is Uriel!"

As if on cue, the double doors opened, the blaring alarms filtering into the room as a tall man with dark skin and a smattering of moles underneath a pair of dark eyes walked in. He shifted his own assault rifle in one arm, as he closed the doors behind him.

"Where the fuck have you been?" Zachariah snarled. He stalked forward to stand in front of the slightly shorter man who gave him an unimpressed look.

"With all due respect, sir, I was assessing how many casualties we took as well as any inventory that may have been stolen while you downstairs fucking around with your Angels," Uriel replied bluntly.

Zachariah glared at the darker man, walking away from him before he turned around and pointed an accusing finger at him. "You got some big, steel balls talkin' to me the way you do,"

"It's why you hired me," Uriel replied, "I tell you when you fucked up and I don't bullshit around."

"Touché, asshole," Zachariah shot back. "Since your cronies are all spineless bastards," he glared the jittery men behind Uriel, "and won't tell me what the hell happened, you gonna tell me or stand there looking unbothered?"

"I'd be happy to inform you, sir," Uriel replied sarcastically.

"Quit with the attitude and just tell me already," Zachariah said as he sat back behind his glass table.

Uriel shrugged and shouldered his rifle in favor of crossing his arms over his broad chest. "It looks like they managed to get into the armory. They stole two assault rifles, five handguns, a crossbow, a fuck of ton ammo and gunned down anyone who got in their way."

Zachariah cradled his head in his hands, massaging his temples roughly to stave away the headache that had begun to develop all over. "How many?"

"About 45 dead and 70 or so injured or in critical condition," Uriel replied.

Zachariah gripped his head tighter and bit the inside of his mouth to keep himself from shattering his table. "They do anything else worth noting?" he gritted out.

"They set two of our labs on fire as well as half your penthouse,"

Zachariah laughed bitterly and lowered his head onto the cool glass. "Of course they did," he muttered, "How long has it been since they escaped?"

"Two hours. I got ahold of our contacts in the NYPD and had them put an APB on them and set up discreet perimeter checks at all exits out of New York as soon as I could. They're not getting out of New York." Uriel replied with an unsettling grin.

"That doesn't matter," Zachariah said as he grazed his knuckles across his teeth, "Those two aren't stupid. They've probably been planning this for weeks and they already know we've got the cops lookin' for 'em. What I want to know is how the hell they got in the armory. Who was on duty at that time?"

Uriel pulled a small tablet out of his Kevlar vest, scrolling through something before stopping and turning it towards Zachariah. "Samandriel Murphy."

A skinny looking 20 something year old near the door began shaking uncontrollably eyes blown wide in panic.

"You Samandriel?" Zachariah called from across the room.

"Y-Yes sir," he stammered.

"Bring him here, Uriel. Take his gun too." Zachariah said.

Uriel nodded, striding over to the skinny kid, snatching his gun and dragging him to stand in front of the glass table.

Zachariah opened the latch of a polished wood box on his glass table, pulling out .44 Magnum turning off the safety and aiming it at Samandriel's head.

"I'm going to give you 10 seconds to tell me why I shouldn't blow your head clean off your neck because, in all honesty, I'd rather not spend hundreds of dollars trying to get blood stains out of my marble floors and my ceiling. Again."

The kid started crying immediately, ugly sobs spilling from his lips as he sunk to the floor on his knees.

Zachariah rolled his eyes, gun still trained on Samandriel's head. "Kid, if you piss your pants, I'll shoot you twice."

"It's only my second week here, sir!" Samandriel cried pitifully.

"Who's fucking bright idea was it to put you on armory shift on your second week?" Zachariah asked incredulously.

"I wasn't even supposed to be there!" he exclaimed. "I was on my way to lab guard shift but an Officer ordered me to cover for him for an hour, so I just did as I was told but then those two Angels held me at knifepoint and forced me to open the armory. I swear I didn't let them in on purpose, please don't shoot me!" He broke down in another fit of crying, snot running down his nose.

"What was the Officer's name?" Zachariah asked.

"Trenton. Officer Cole Trenton," he said quickly.

Zachariah sighed and turned the safety back on his gun and set it back down on the table. "I'm not gonna kill you, now get up and quit dripping snot on my floor." He said.

Samandriel scrabbled off the floor, wiping desperately at his nose and eyes.

"Balthazar," Zachariah said to one of the Angels standing near the easternmost wall. An older male Angel with short blond hair and tired, light, sky-blue eyes stepped forward.

"Yes, Zachariah," he answered automatically, his accent unmistakably British.

"Be a dear and take Samandriel down to one of the Angel's quarters. Have them treat him." He asked with an overly sweet voice.

Balthazar gave him a tight smile and nodded wordlessly. "Come with me, please." He said to Samandriel.

"Oh, and if you find Cole on your down there, bring him up. I need to speak to him." Zachariah said, a hint of anger laced in his tone.

Balthazar gave another wordless nod and escorted Samandriel out of the room.

"The rest of you can leave. Uriel stay." Zachariah said dismissively.

The other Angel in the room and the rest of Uriel's task force sprinted to the door, all trying to filter out of the room at once. The blaring alarm had gone off a couple of minutes ago, saving Zachariah from further headaches.

"This is a goddamn nightmare," Zachariah muttered under his breath.

"Do you want me to alert Ms.—"

"NO!" Zachariah exclaimed quickly. "No, absolutely-fucking-not, we're not telling her shit. Not if we can help it. She'll have all our asses if she finds out I managed to let those two escape. We'll handle this ourselves." He tapped thoughtfully on his chin and snapped his fingers at a sudden idea. "Get the Ubel Twins on the phone."

"You're shitting me. Alastair and Azazel?" Uriel deadpanned.

"Look, I hate them as much as you do—"

"Doubtful," Uriel scoffed. 

"Shut it. They may be complete pieces of shit personified but they're good at their jobs."

"You know they're gonna charge you like 3 million for each of their services right?" Uriel asked.

"Yes, which is why I'm gonna hire Hunters." Zachariah clarified.

"Hunters? Do you mean mercenaries or...?"

"No, I mean Hunters, smartass," Zachariah retorted. "They mainly hunt all that weird supernatural crap like werewolves and wendigos and shit."

"All that shit actually exists?"

"What do you think half the creepy shit down in the labs are exactly? Deranged Poodles?" Zachariah jeered. "There used to be a fuck ton of supernatural shit like that everywhere. Now those fuckers only populate in masses in North America, Europe, and parts of Asia. Anyway, they hunt all that stuff. They take bounties on people on occasions, but for cheaper and usually quicker."

"So let me guess," Uriel said crossing his arms, "you're gonna strike some kind of deal with the Ubel Twins that they only get the full payment if they actually find them but give a cheaper deal to whatever Hunters you hire in hopes they find them first and you won't have to pay a ton of money cuz you'll just kill them afterwards. Am I right?"

"Bingo," Zachariah said with a wicked grin, "That way there aren't any more people than there need to be out there who know those two exist and there won't be any loose ends or a bunch of money lost."

A knock sounded suddenly from outside the door, interrupting their conversation. "It's me, Zachariah." Balthazar's voice filtered in through the door.

 

"Come in!" He called.

Balthazar walked in, an averaged sized man with spiky, dirty blonde hair and bloodshot blue eyes stumbled in after him.

"I found Officer Trenton," Balthazar said.

"Thank you, Balthazar, you're a dear." Zachariah gushed.

Balthazar gave him another tight-lipped smile and moved to stand back near the easternmost wall. 

"You wanted to see me, Boss?" Cole said sluggishly.

"Yeah, I did," Zachariah said, fingers tapping awfully close to his .44 Magnum.

"Look if this about me getting high, it's for medicinal—"

Zachariah held up a hand and shook his head, "Let me stop you there. I couldn't give less of a fuck if you smoke weed for medicinal or recreational use. I don't care what you do in your free time. That being said, I got a huge problem when it gets in the way of you doing your fucking job."

Cole gave Zachariah a confused look. "The fuck are you talkin' about?"

"Your little break earlier today to go get high? You stuck a new recruit with armory shift and it cost us 45 good men and women and caused the escape of two extremely dangerous individuals from our facility." Zachariah continued, eyes narrowing dangerously.

Cole balked and scratched nervously at his cheek. "Shit. I didn't—shit—didn't even know."

"I know," Zachariah said with an unimpressed look.

"Look, I swear I was only gonna be gone for an hour I was just gonna go smoke super quick and get some head from—" He froze, lips freezing up mid-sentence.

Zachariah's icy gaze intensified into a look that could murder a man on sight. "Get head from who?"

Cole didn't speak. The color completely draining from his face and his expression completely sober.

"Balthazar," Zachariah said scarily calm, eyes still trained on Cole's petrified ones, "Where exactly did you find Officer Trenton?"

Balthazar risked an almost sympathetic glance at Cole who was now visibly shaking. "On the 74th floor, the second level of the Angel's Quarters," he replied evenly.

"Who's quarters?"

"Angel Quinn's," Balthazar replied slightly quieter.

"Balthazar," Zachariah said picking up his .44 and twirling it menacingly in his hand, "what's the one rule I have told every task force member in this building in regards to sexual activities with my Angels?"

Balthazar swallowed the lump in his throat, knowing exactly what was going to happen he answered. "No one is allowed to engage in sexual activities with any Angel unless granted explicit permission by you."

"What's the punishment if I find out that they did and they tell the truth?" He said, clicking the safety off his gun.

"A bullet to the kneecap," Balthazar answered, refusing to look at Cole.

"And the punishment if they lie?" He said aiming the gun at Cole who was now openly crying.

"Two bullets to the abdomen," Balthazar whispered.

"Please," Cole begged.

"Shouldn't have lied," Zachariah said with a shrug, "If you'd told the truth, all you'd lose is your ability to walk properly. Now, you're in limbo for dying from eternal bleeding, which by the way, not fun, or being in such excruciating pain while you recover that you'll wish you had died."

Zachariah fired one shot, then a second into Cole's stomach, a strangled noise escaping his throat as he collapsed on the floor. Uriel didn't even flinch just glanced at the body and then turned his attention back to Zachariah. Balthazar stared at the ceiling refusing to look at Cole convulsing and gasping on the ground as blood soaked his shirt and pooled on the floor below him.

"On the bright side, Cole, if you do live and recover, I'll reinstate as you a janitor on the third floor where I'll never have to see your disobedient ass ever again," Zachariah said with false cheerfulness. "Uriel, do me a favor and take him to medical. If he dies, oh well, toss him in the furnace. Also call the Ubel Twins and Garth again. That bastard's probably rich from the number of times I've called him for this shit."

Uriel nodded and picked up Cole who was now unconscious but steadily bleeding out.

Balthazar was staring at the large pool of blood on the floor, eyes glued in carefully hidden fear.

"Balthazar, come here, babe," Zachariah demanded gently.

Gritting his teeth, he made his way slowly over to Zachariah. Zachariah stood, towering over the shorter man. Zachariah put his hands on Balthazar's shoulders, it took everything in Balthazar not to flinch or lash out.

"You're shaking, love," he said calmly.

"I'm fine," he replied automatically.

"I know. You're tough. But you hate it when I do stuff like this." Zachariah leaned forward to kiss Balthazar's cheek. "I apologize."

"May I go now?" Balthazar gritted out.

Zachariah sighed and nodded, "Yeah. Go ahead," he said.

Balthazar shimmied out of Zachariah's grasp and hurried towards the doors and closed the, quickly behind him.

Zachariah sat down heavily at his table and sat there briefly before logging into his computer and searching up a name and locating the phone number below it. He grabbed his phone on his desk, dialing the number. As he waited for an answer he glared at two names that showed up on his emergency protocol file; Gabriel Novak and Castiel Novak. 

The phone eventually stopped ringing, a deep voice answering with a cautious hello.

"Hi, yes, am I talking to Dean or Sam Winchester? I'm talking Sam. Well, Sam Winchester, I'm glad you asked. I've heard quite a bit about you and your brother Dean and if you're willing to take it, I've got a special job for you two."


	2. Concrete Jungle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean accept the bounty proposed by Zachariah, they enter the infamous concrete jungle of NYC and gear up for what they'll soon discover is the difficulty that is hunting in the Concrete Jungle

_**Winchester Bunker, Lebanon, KS, 10:37 P.M November 18, 2014** _

"Remind me why you decided to take this bounty again?" Dean grumbled as he stuff another worn flannel shirt into his duffel bag.

Sam sighed and gave Dean an annoyed look. "I just figured we needed a break from hunting supernatural stuff. We've hunted like three rogue werewolves in one month and frankly, I'm tired of almost getting my face chewed off."

"But New York, Sam?" Dean asked incredulously. "I can't stand New York, you know that."

Sam quirked an eyebrow at him. "The only reason you hate New York is because of the Feather Boa Inci--"

Dean threw a pair of underwear at Sam's head and pointed menacingly at him. "We don't talk about that incident," he snapped. 

Sam merely laughed and threw the pair of underwear back at his brother. "No, _you_ don't talk about that incident. I, however, find it extremely funny that you were tied to a bedpost, naked, using feathery pink boas as rope by the twin redheads you fu--"

Dean tossed a pillow at Sam's head as the taller brother busted out laughing. "Fuck you, bitch, I was tied to that bed for two hours before you found me! They stole my wallet!"

"You only had like ten dollars in your wallet, dude," Sam said through occasional bursts of laughter.

"Still! It was traumatizing. New York is a goddamn nightmare," Dean said with an exaggerated shudder.

Sam rolled his eyes and continued packing up his duffel bag. "Whatever, jerk, we're going and you have no choice. Who knows, you might run into the Weasley twins again," He said grabbing his duffel bag and heading to the garage.

"Fuck you, Sam, I know where that's from!" Dean yelled after him, "Fuckin' nerd and his Harry Potter references," he muttered angrily. He grabbed his duffel bag as well and hurried after Sam.

He walked into the garage, Sam shuffling through the trunk of Dean's sleek, black 67 Impala whilst typing quickly on his laptop that balanced precauriously on the edge of the car. Dean tossed his duffel in the back seat and joined Sam behind the trunk, ducking under it with him. "We got everything?"

"I think so. We gonna need the sniper rifle?" Sam asked.

Dean shrugged. "I dunno. You're the one who took the bounty, not me. Shouldn't you know?"

"I mean he didn't exactly give me a lot of information on who we're hunting. He said he'd explain all that when we got there." Sam said as he checked the ammo on a Glock 22.

"You accepted a bounty without getting information or background on the people we're hunting?" Dean said crossing his arms disapprovingly, "Come on man you know better."

"I know, I know but would you really ask a lot of questions if they told you they'd give you 5 million for a bounty and tell you the details later?"

Dean jerked upward, hitting his head on the trunk door with a loud metallic thunk. Sam looked at him in concern. "Are you okay?"

"5 MILLION?" Dean exclaimed loudly. 

"Yes?" Sam answered confusedly.

"Like...5 million U.S. dollars?"

"Uh, yes?" Sam said slowly.

"Holy shit," Dean whispered, "who the hell is this guy paying us?"

"Zachariah Achor," he answered. He clicked a tab on his browser, a picture of a tall man with gray thinning hair and a crooked smile. "Sounds like a real big shot from what I read about him. He became the CEO of this Fortune 500 Company called Angelican Labs in 1994. They've been around for years, they were founded in 1893. They've got labs everywhere. They mostly do pharmaceutical development, but they've built hospitals, funded universities. I called up Jesse and asked him if he knew anything else about them. Said they own casinos and conduct "alternative experimentation" that doesn't have anything to do with finding a cure for the common cold."

"Any of that last part public knowledge?" Dean asked.

"Nope," Sam replied.

"Sketchy," Dean said simply.

"Sketchy enough to pass up 5 million though?" Sam inquired.

Dean hummed thoughtfully. "I mean I guess not. Why're we going to New York though?"

"It's where he's located. Plus it's where their headquarters are,"

"It sounds good but the fact he didn't give you any info about who we're hunting still doesn't sit right with me," Dean said doubtfully.

"I mean it's either this or the witch hunt the Banes twins needed--"

Before Sam could even finish, Dean ducked out of the trunk and began walking briskly back into the bunker. "I'm gonna go find the keys! Get everything packed! There's no way in hell I'm dealing witches!"

"You know the Banes' are witches right?" Sam shouted back.

"I mean witches that are hell-bent on killing me!"

Sam shook his head affectionately at his brother's antics and closed his laptop and the trunk, deeming everything they needed to be there.

Dean came back a few seconds later, keys in hand as he climbed in the drivers seat. "Come on, let's go of we're gonna go!"

"I'm coming, shut up," Sam said. He climbed into the passengers, pulling out his phone to type in the address Zachariah had given him.

"So where exactly in New York are we headed?"

"Good ol' New York City it looks like. We'll be on the road for 22 hours so we should get there by tomorrow night." Sam said showing him the destination. His eyes lit up in realization. "Hey, that's the same city where the Inci--"

"Sam, I swear to God, keep it up and I'll make you ride in the trunk." Dean growled, shoving his brother childishly in the head.

"Jerk," he muttered.

"Bitch," Dean shot back. 

✧✧✧✧✧

_**Somewhere Near Angelican Labs HQ, New York City, NY, 9:04 P.M November 15, 2014** _

Sam jolted awake to the loud honking of several car horns. He sniffed quietly and looked over at Dean through bleary eyes to see his brother aggressively honking his horn, green eyes screaming bloody murder. 

"Come on! Get a move on, asshole, the light is green!" Dean shouted.

Sam snorted and sat up right in his seat, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

Dean briefly looked at him before turning his gaze back to the busy and crowded streets of NYC. "Mornin' sleeping beauty." Dean said mockingly. 

"S'not even morning," Sam said.

"You know what I meant, Princess," Dean retorted.

Sam looked out his window, taking in the arguably stunning glow of NYC, the city that truly never seemed to sleep. 

"We almost there?" Sam asked, eyes still trained on the city lights that illuminated the night sky.

"Yeah, GPS says we're like a mile away," he honked the horn again, letting out a groan of frustration, "If this asshat in front of me with that god awful Prius would just fucking move!" Dean yelled angrily.

He rolled down the window, sticking his head out through the opening. "Get off your phone and drive asshole!"

The Prius driver stuck their hand out, flipping Dean the bird as they sped off.

"Yeah well fuck you too buddy!" Dean shouted. Dean sat back down in his seat, finally able to drive forward. "New York drivers are rude man," Dean grumbled.

"You're not exactly the friendliest driver in the world either, Dean," Sam said with amusement. 

"Shuddup," Dean said.

They drove for a few more minutes before the GPS said they had reached their destination.

"Is this it?" Dean asked, looking at the building to their right.

Sam looked out his window, his neck straining to look up at the extremely tall building to the right of them. "Yep. That's it."

"Where the hell are we gonna park?" Dean asked, eyeing the filled parker spots on the sides of the streets. 

"Try the parking garage that says Angelican Lab Private Parking," Sam said sarcastically, pointing at a large parking garage a few hundred feet in front of them.

Dean narrowed his eyes at Sam, refusing to grant his sarcastic comment with an answer.

He drove up to parking garage, reeling slightly at the price to park. 

"$40 to park? Geez," Dean muttered. "You got another 20?" 

Sam fished around in his wallet and pulled out a slightly wrinkled 20 dollars bill. Dean took it and inserted it into the machine. The machine beeped once and spit out a silver coin with "AL" inscribed on both sides. 

"Huh. Guess this is our receipt." Dean said, handing it to Sam to put in the glove box. He drove forward as the striped check point lifted. Luckily, there was an open spot on the first level towards the exit.

"Awesome. We don't have to walk a bunch." Dean said happily.

Sam rolled his eyes and got of the car to grab his duffel bag. Dean killed the engine, climbing out of the car as well. Sam handed him his duffel bag and shouldered his own. They made their way out of the parking garage, pre-winter air blowing in their faces, cars blazing past them. They quickly crossed the busy street, stopping to look up and admire the large building. It was made entirely out of floor to ceiling blacked out windows with silver and blue tints shinning ever so slightly within them, the elegant sans-serif font at the top spelling 'Angelican Labs HQ' in blueish white letters.

Dean let out an appreciative whistle. "Nice building he's got."

"I agree."  Sam replied, still transfixed on the buildings design. 

"Well we better get going. It's fuckin freezing out here and rather not have my fingers fall off out here." Dean said, teeth beginning to chatter together.

"Alright. Let's go then." Sam said, walking side by side with his brother as they approached the buildings entrance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo! Second chapter is up! I'm really liking where this is going and I hope you are too. Btw Sam and Dean still live in the Bunker but the Men of Letters cease to exist, they were gifted it by a former bounty contractor is what I'm gonna say happened. Anyway, hope you enjoy!
> 
> (Any and all mistakes are mine, kudos and feedback are always welcome :)


	3. The King Will See You Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Sam finally enter Angelican Labs HQ, right off the bat, things seem strange and neither Winchester is getting good vibes off the odd company.

_**Angelican Labs, New York City, NY, 9:42 P.M. , November 15, 2014** _

Sam and Dean took in their surroundings as they entered  Angelican Lab HQ. The floor was made out of well-polished marble, the walls a shimmering crystalline material. A large, curved glass information desk sat in the middle of what appeared to be an extremely big waiting/communal room. Men and women in suits and business dresses, some older and others around their own age, talked and laughed amongst one another in groups, all nursing alcoholic beverages. People in odd white uniforms consisting of tight white pants, fitted white turtlenecks made out of a material they couldn't identify, were walking around the groups, trays of drinks in their hands handing them out to the groups that waved for them.

Sam and Dean glanced at each other, both shrugging dismissively at the odd setting as they made their way to the large information desk. An olive-skinned man dressed in one of the odd white uniforms typed away at a computer, looking up briefly with a patient smile on his face.

"One minute, gentlemen, I'll be right with you," he said.

Dean raised his hands and shrugged with a grin. "No rush."

He nodded and continued typing whilst swiping at something obscured by the high rise of the desk. He eventually stopped, moving from behind the computer to talk to them.

"I apologize for your wait gentlemen. My name is Ivan, what can I help you with?" he said, wide smile still in place.

"We were called by your boss, Zachariah Achor, to partake in a bounty," Sam answered.

"Alright, one moment please," Ivan said, picking up a small tablet, typing in something before frowning slightly. "Mr. Achor doesn't appear to have any bounties ordered it seems,"

Sam and Dean gave each other brief wary gazes.

"Can I get your names, please?" Ivan asked apologetically, typing hurriedly on the tablet.

"Sam and Dean Winchester," Dean answered cautiously.

Ivan stopped typing immediately, the smile fading from his lips as he looked back and forth between the two brothers. "...Winchester?"

"Yeah," Dean answered slowly, eyebrows furrowing together in a hostile manner, "is that a problem?"

Ivan stared at Dean, face stricken. "Um...no...n-not at all. That just explains...nevermind," he put down the tablet and grabbed a nearby phone, dialing a number quickly.

"Mr. Achor? I apologize, but your Hunters have arrived. Yes, sir. Will we be providing them with...accommodates? Very well, I'll be sure to let the other Angels know." Ivan hung up the phone Sam and Dean giving each other "what the fuck" looks.

"Sorry for the confusion, gentlemen," Ivan said, the practiced smile back on his face. "Someone will be down in a moment to take you up to Mr. Achor. Would you like any drinks while you wait?"

"No, we're—"

"You got any whiskey?" Dean interrupted quickly, Sam fixing him with a bitchface.

"What kind?" Ivan asked.

"Surprise me," Dean said with a wink.

Ivan blinked owlishly at him before nodding and hurried away to the back room.

Sam and Dean picked up their bags to go sit at an unoccupied table.

"Something's wrong with you," Sam muttered.

"What're you talking about?" Dean said.

"You sounded like you wanted to jump him in the non-sexy way one minute and then you openly flirt with him?" Sam asked incredulously, an unimpressed look on his face.

"Come on, Sam, I was just playing around," Dean said, lightly punching his arm. "I'm not as flirty as I used to be, you at least gotta admit that?"

"Whatever," Sam scoffed, leaning back in his chair.

Ivan walked up to them, setting down a glass of whiskey and carefully avoiding Dean's gaze.

"Thanks, doll," Dean said with another wink.

Ivan gave a tense, but polite smile and made his way back behind the desk.

"Weird," Dean says, sipping his whiskey. "Usually that works."

"He probably thinks you're a creep," Sam said, eyes closed.

"Do I look like a creep to you?" Dean said, gesturing to himself.

Sam peeked open one eye, looking at his brother with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, fuck you, I do not," Dean said downing the rest of his whiskey.

"I'm just saying," Sam replied.

"Gentlemen," A British voice said.

Dean and Sam looked behind them to see a slightly older man in his early to mid-forties. His hair was short and blonde, eyes sky blue. He wore a similar odd white uniform only his turtleneck was sleeveless and his tight white pants had gold stitching and a white collar with a gold plate and words they couldn't quite make out sat high on his throat.

"Hello, my name is Balthazar, I'll be taking you up to Mr. Achor now. Do you need me to carry your bags?" he asked, a neutral look on his face.

"Um...no we're okay," Sam said awkwardly.

"Very well. If you'll follow me please." He turned around, both brothers noticing the neatly gold stitched wings on the back.

"Angel?" Dean mouthed to Sam.

Sam shrugged and followed after the Englishman. He led them to an elevator separate from the ones they had seen when they walked in. A key pad lay just above the floor buttons, Balthazar quickly typed in a code and pressed floor 90 of the 95 that existed.

"Are we allowed to ask any questions?" Sam asked after a few moments of silence.

Balthazar gave Sam a sideways glance before focusing his eyes back on the elevator door. "Of course. I'm here to provide you with anything you need as well as answer any questions you may have to the best of my ability."

"Cool," Dean replied. "So what exactly do Angels refer to here? Are you all like...actual angels or...?"

Balthazar shook his head and fixed his gaze on Dean. "No, Mr. Winchester we're—"

"Dean," Dean interrupted, "my name's Dean. My dad was Mr. Winchester and I'd rather not be associated with him." Dean said with a sharp smile.

Balthazar appeared unfazed, nodding politely. "I apologize. But back to your question, Dean, no. We're not actual angels. Angels here are considered..." He paused, his jaw clenching tightly before he answered. "We're considered Mr. Achor's "personal service workers". Anything he requires us to do or provide, we do so." he said with an absent look in his eyes.

"Oh," Dean said, blinking awkwardly at Balthazar. "Thanks...for that clarification,"

"You're welcome," Balthazar replied without looking at Dean.

Dean gave another wary glance at Sam who cleared his throat loudly.

"Do you happen to have anymore information about this bounty we're supposedly taking?" Sam asked.

Balthazar tensed before quickly steeling himself, but not before the Winchesters noticed.

"You'll have to talk to Mr. Achor about that. He doesn't tell us much about his Bounty business." he replied evenly.

Sam didn't answer, only nodding silently as they continued up the large building. Eventually the elevator came to a halt, the doors sliding open to reveal a long hallway with familiar polished marble floors and shimmering walls. More people in odd white uniforms and white collars passed by them as they continued forward. They took a left and came to wide silverish gray doors, with symmetrical intricate engravings on each door. 

"Please wait here for a moment," Balthazar said, opening the doors slightly before entering in quietly.

As the door closed, Dean turned to Sam with a disturbed look on his face. "What the fuck did you get us into?"

Sam let out a heavy sigh and shook his head. "I don't know, but I'm starting not to like it."

"No shit. "We're his personal service workers"? That's literally just a fancy way of saying he's their pimp. He's got them wearing collars I mean—"

The door suddenly opened, Dean immediately shut his mouth. Balthazar came through, gesturing for them to follow.

"He's ready for you now," he said.

Sam and Dean shared another brief look before following Balthazar.

They entered into an ominously lit office, the room slightly larger than the communal area downstairs. A single glass desk sat in the middle, the same man they had seen on the website, thinning gray hair, tall profile, sharp crooked smile and all leaned casually against.

"Welcome, gentlemen!" Zachariah greeted enthusiastically. "It's so great to finally meet you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter up woo! I don't really have much to say about this chapter so I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> (Any and all mistakes are mine, kudos and feedback are always welcome :)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is a new fic of mine that I finally decided to write and get a start on. This is the first chapter and hopefully I'll have time to work on this and the other fic I'm writing (which you can read [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7332901a))
> 
> I hope you stick around for this one I really like it and I hope you will too. 
> 
> (Any and all mistakes are mine and kudos and feedback are always welcome :)


End file.
